


Plastic Prison

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anger, Angst, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sex, Attempted Sexual Assault, Beaches, Drug Abuse, Graphic Description, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Music, Musicians, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, plastic beach
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 2-D shows up in a suitcase on Plastic Beach, and Murdoc jumps on the opportunity to make sure he doesn't lose him again. Extreme measures are taken to make sure 2-D knows that Murdoc owns him. Do not read this story if you are easily triggered.





	1. Natural Forces of the Unforgiving Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Written with my writing soulmate on Twitter <3 Sorry for the rough editing in the first chapter! I will edit it more when I have the time. Much more content to come, so check frequently for updates!~
> 
> ***ALSO***  
> We tried to keep everything as canon as possible (aside from the heavily implied 2Doc) but some of the settings of Plastic Beach have been altered, such as the location of 2-D's underground bedroom. It is now on an upper floor, but with the weird shape of the building, he is STILL tormented by the whale, and he also doesn't have a proper bed or access to the kitchen or bathroom without Murdoc's permission. I also couldn't remember where Cyborg Noodle's charging station was, so I wing it later on in the story. I also decided that Murdoc had no idea the Boogyman was kidnapping 2-D and bringing him to Plastic Beach. Etc. Etc. So if you're a Gorillaz fan who is obsessed with details such as setting, pleeeease don't kill me! Work with me here!
> 
> Enjoy the story!

After having drunken himself to sleep the previous night, Murdoc was in a very deep slumber on the couch, where he’d passed out watching T.V. and talking to himself for twenty minutes straight. His body was sprawled out awkwardly over the piece of furniture, one of his legs not even making it onto the cushions as it dangled over the edge.

The sun had been up for nearly an hour, but the bassist chose to sleep in the living room most nights to make certain that if a certain singer of his band tried to sneak out, he would have to walk past Murdoc to get to the elevator that led to an unlikely freedom. The Satanist wasn’t the lightest sleeper, but he had selective hearing while unconscious, as he liked to put it. Any time Stuart made a move in a direction Murdoc had forbidden him to go, the blue-haired man had to be taught a lesson about the importance and necessity of his obedience to every command he received.

In between long, loud snoring, he vocalized gibberish talk in his sleep, nearly waking himself up a few times.

“No I will not. I’m not… I’m not gonna pay for that… sod off… heh-heh, it’s alright now, there’s still room… Say, why don’t you be a pal, bring me a pizza,” a hoarse voice revealed the random conversations of his dream.

“Oi! Shit…. _SHIT!_ ” He was yelling in his sleep now, stirring awake once. He tried to push himself up, but was barely awakened by his own yells, so as he weakly pushed himself up, Murdoc ended up collapsing back into the same position he’d been in. A few seconds later, snores filled the room again, echoing off the walls due to the current lack of furniture. The bare walls, tall ceilings, and long hallways carried even the smallest of sounds all the way through whatever floor someone was on. That’s the way it needed to be for now for two reasons, Murdoc had reminded himself. The first reason being the fact that he was nearly flat broke after an unsuccessful business settlement went down with some pirates who now wanted to find and murder him. But that wasn’t as important as the second reason. He would have loved to fully dive in to decorating his new empire - slash - studio - slash - palace - slash hideout from bloodthirsty pirates and the Boogeyman, who had been sent by Satan to collect his soul. But no, no, no. None of that was nearly as important as his second reason.

The second reason Murdoc hadn’t added much furniture anywhere aside from his bedroom yet was plain and simple: Empty rooms result in echo and reverberation of sound. The singer of his band had made it pretty clear after his kidnapping to Plastic Beach that he did not want anything to do with Murdoc’s plan. The reaction didn’t surprise the bassist. He simply proceeded to make it very clear that 2-D was /not/ leaving the island. And in order to hold someone against their own will, you sort of had to pay attention to them at all times. Even when you were asleep.

Murdoc laughed at 2-D during that conversation, pointing out the fact that even if he were to escape the building, there weren’t any masses of land close enough to swim to and he didn’t have the convenience of a ship. He reminded 2-D of the large sea creatures waiting for him if he tried to go into the water in an attempt to scare the idea out of the singer’s head altogether.

It had only been a little over a week since their arrival, but Murdoc forced 2-D to listen to his latest self-dubbed grand master plan of success for /his/ band. Although he didn’t particularly make sure the singer was listening, he rambled on and on about how Stuart was absolutely going to help him. He couldn’t do it without him, but he didn’t want to risk hurting his ego by telling the other man that fact. As far as anyone was concerned, Murdoc didn’t need help from nobody. That’s why he wasn’t asking 2-D to help him; He was /demanding/ it. He had quickly told 2-D about how he’d created Cyborg Noodle out of some of their guitarist’s DNA he’d collected from the Flying Windmill Island after her disappearance. He left most of the details out though, because he felt guilty about the fact that she was most likely dead and it was his fault. Anyone else and he probably wouldn’t have cared, but Noodle was an exception to every one of his rules when it came to not allowing /anyone/ to have control over his feelings. He’d grown to care about her almost like a daughter, but the world would end before he would admit that out loud. So he skipped the details and went on to tell Stuart about what they were going to do without a drummer. He explained how the drum machines worked that he’d claimed for their studio, despite the fact that 2-D probably already knew, considering his job at the keyboard shop before Murdoc unexpectedly crashed his car into the helpless Stuart Pot. Then again, he’d suffered quite a bit of damage to his brain, and the bassist often noticed that 2-D either had a terrible listening problem, or the brain injuries caused him to forget miscellaneous things that Murdoc thought seemed strange to forget, like whether or not he’d eaten that day, or whether or not he’d taken more than the recommended dosage of his pain medications for his head despite having thrown them up in a response to an overdose on several occasions, back at the original Kong Studios HQ.

It was around eleven in the morning when Murdoc finally woke up. He groaned as a familiar ache at the temples of his skull threatened a morning hangover. Pushing himself off of the couch with a grunt, he groggily shuffled down to where the door of 2-D’s assigned room was. Murdoc had taken it upon himself to remove the doorknob right in front of 2-D when he first arrived on the island, only to replace the doorknob on backwards so that the lock faced the hallway, trapping the singer inside. Of course he could always try to pick the lock from the other side, and Murdoc knew that was a possibility in which he couldn’t ignore, but he was almost certain 2-D didn’t have the balls to do something like that, considering the fact that Murdoc was not shy at all about putting Stuart back into his rightful place - under his thumb, obeying him with full loyalty, or receiving punishment for trying to stand up for himself in any way that disturbed Murdoc’s twisted mind.

Murdoc turned the knob’s lock until he heard it click, signaling that it was unlocked. Forcefully yanking the door open, he stood in the doorway, glaring into the room. “What’s the matter with you, are you deaf?! Wot the fuck time is it right now, 2-D, d’yaaa know?” He slurred, still not fully awake, and still not fully sober from the night before. “The hell you thinkin’, letting us sleep in when we’ve got to _practise_ ,” he hissed venomously, despite the fact that 2-D had no possible way of waking Murdoc up without creating a scene that would end badly for the singer, considering he was locked behind a door in a completely different room.

The lanky male sat in the farthest corner of the room. He didn't even consider it a room actually, just a plain hellhole he's been stuck in for over a week. His back rested against the cold white wall, while his limbs stayed sprawled out in front of him. The poor boy hasn't gotten one proper night of sleep, due to no furniture and his mind was racing constantly of ways to escape. Every time he tried and tried to just sneak away but it always failed because the bloody bassist was always one step ahead of him. Murdoc is truly smart, well that's what Stuart thinks ever since his accident. It was like he knew what 2-D was thinking, like he lived in his head. It terrified him. Anxiety bubbled up in his chest as he looked back at the punishments Mudz gave him. Those punishments downright haunted him, making the blunette afraid to even move a muscle. He had those bruises and memories echoed in his brain, as remembrance that if he tried anything ever again he would be hurt for his actions. God you have no clue how much he wants to leave the rotting plastic island that they call home, to leave Murdoc and that stupid fucking whale. The singer hated that whale. It mocked and tortured 2-D every day when his eyes met with the whales. His gaze was now attracted to the window, where he only saw blue. Just blue. But he jumped, his poor heart leaping out of chest when he heard Murdoc's snoring. This might be his chance but he knew himself. He was a pussy. Plus if the lanky male did anything the devil will most likely hear. So he did.. nothing. Just sat there. Hunger and sadness struck him at that second. Looking back now he hasn't eaten in a while let alone use the bathroom properly. At the state of hunger he remembered his friends. Noodle and Russel. They were replaced like nothing. He said that he didn't need them but only Stuart but only for his own gain. 2-D hated Murdoc even more because of this. Poor Noodle was dead and he didn't care only made named a robot after her. A bloody fucking robot! Then Russel was now just a drum machine. They were gone and he was alone. No one but himself and Murdoc. Shifting in his spot, he tucked his knees under his chin and decided since Murdoc was asleep, that maybe he could get some needed rest. So he closed his eyes and let his mind shut off. But he came to life once again when footsteps rang in his ears. Then the door slammed open and he hid further into the corner as light filled the room and a familiar figure stood at the door frame. It was the devil himself. Murdoc was yelling at him and cursing, he tried his best to keep up with him.  
  
"W-wut?" Soon his body shook in not just fear but anger "h-how the bloody hell am I sahpose' to wake you up if I'm locked in this frickin' room 24/7?!" Stuart snapped at Mudz but quickly shut his mouth, loosing the energy he once had.

Murdoc's expression changed from anger to confusion for a brief moment as he considered 2-D's response as if he'd never thought of it that way before. "Hm? Ohh~ That's right." The room echoed with a dark, mocking laughter, his shoulders shaking as he made fun of the singer's imprisonment again. "What d'ya know, you're actually right 'bout somethin'," he snarled through his teeth.

When 2-D made no attempt to get up, Murdoc took a couple of steps forward into the room. "Wot the bloody 'ell are ya waitin' for then, dullard? Get up, let's go! We've got a lotta work to do." He wouldn't say it twice. Or, at least, if he had to, he wouldn't be quite so... nice... about it.  
  
Stuart flinched as Murdoc's laughter bounced off the walls, and straight to Stuarts ears. The bassist thought all of this was a joke. So he shook his head in slight defience and turned his head away, deciding the wall was more interesting than the situation in front of him. The boy was frustrated. When he heard those steps get closer, his heart gained speed once again. He wanted to give himself to Murdoc right that second, he didn't want to get punished but he listened to Murdoc and tried to make a deal." 'm hungry Mudz...I need food... and I need to pee... I-I'll get up once you agree with that.. and I'll help ya' wit' your stupid album..." 2-D tried sounding brave again but his voice would crack and he sounded just exhausted.

Murdoc stopped walking and stood in place about an arm-length distance away from Stu. He folded his arms over his chest, peering down at the fragile man below him. He tapped his foot against the floor a few times while he considered how to respond to his bandmate's requests. Even though Murdoc had very little control over his anger, there was still a part of him that was human. He may not currently own his own soul, but he still had it. Satan had sent the boogeyman to claim it, considering the devil had fulfilled his part of the deal, but Murdoc had no intentions of giving it up without a fight. They'd have to kill him. That was a part of the trouble though; They would kill him. It bothered Murdoc deep down inside, but the alcohol and the drugs seemed to assist him well enough when he wanted to run away from his own emotions.

The way Murdoc treated his singer, anyone who witnessed their interactions would only be able to assume the bassist hated the other man. In reality, Murdoc did not hate Stuart at all. He was actually quite fond of the guy, but he didn't know how to show someone that he cared about them, or even liked them. He always had to open his mouth, or get too drunk, and scare the living daylights out of everyone who ever tried to get close to him. But Murdoc knew how to keep his mind occupied with anything and everything enough that he didn't ever really notice how lonely he truly was.

"So you need to eat an' use a toilet, ey? Why didn't you jus' say that before, idiot?" Murdoc laughed hard for a few seconds, because he knew Stuart would have had no way to tell him anything, unless he screamed it through the door at the top of his lungs. Murdoc had expected 2-D would have done just that, but instead the singer was relatively quiet. It was kind of freaky, Murdoc had thought. He expected a lot more crying and screaming and pleading than what he was given. On nights where Murdoc's temper was more under control, he'd occasionally feel bad that he locked Stuart in the room, but he didn't want to risk losing him. So instead, he'd just get mad at himself for being so soft, reminding himself that he wasn't supposed to care if someone, especially Stu, was comfortable, happy, or whether or not they needed anything. "Maybe if you're a good boy, I'll get you a walkie-talkie so you can tell me when you need ta use the loo."

Murdoc noticed how weak Stuart looked, so he extended his hand for the other man to take and use to pull himself up with. "We don't got food in the fridge. Do you have any money?"

The singer took glances at Murdoc, he could tell he was thinking but 2-D couldn't really read the mates expression that well. The same laugh and stupid remark made him scowl. Of course he knew he had no possible way, so he brushed it off. And waited. Why was Murdoc like this? Stuart asked himself that constantly. The bassist was such a jerk, he couldn't believe he hasn't got his ass beat to the point where he could actually die from it. If he could Stuart would beat his ass in a heartbeat but with his lanky, skinny body he wouldn't do much. " a-are you serious? If I'm a good?" His voice was filled with slight hope. Was Mudz messing with him again or was he actually being nice? Stuart faced the bassist once more, gently taking the offered hand"better' not be lying.." The singer rose, his muscles aching as he towered over the green man. He used that hand as support, 2-D felt like he was going to pass out any minute."uh.. no I couldn't bring anyfhink wiv me when I got kidnapped.." how can there not be food? And why did he expect him to have anything on him. "Take me to the loo now.. I need to go..."

When Stuart told Murdoc he better not be lying, he replied with, "/You/ better not misbehave today." He used an authoritative tone, as if speaking to a dog you were trying to train. Murdoc was serious about the walkie-talkies, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be easily persuaded to change his mind if 2-D did or said something that he didn't want him to do or say. The Satanist was not exactly a people person; Not unless he was trying to charm someone, like a good looking woman, or someone larger than him who he managed to piss off.

"Okay, okay." Murdoc pulled his hand back from Stu's hand as soon as the man was on two feet. His face fell when 2-D mentioned the kidnapping. He ignored his request to go to the bathroom to say, "2-D, you do know  _I_ didn't kidnap you... You know that, don't you?"

He ignored Murdoc's tone. Stuart was not a dog and didn't want to be treated like one. Black eyes met mismatched ones. Than he rose a thick eyebrow in a questioning manner. "Wut? It wasn't yew?" 2-D brushed down his clothes, thinking to himself. ".. If it wasn't you.. then it had to be someone ya' hired right?" The singer looked around the room, his bladder caplaining. His eyes locked with the open door and maybe he should just make a run for it."..Wos it the ...boogyman?" Stuart sounded unsure because he heard of that name twice he thinks and seen the thing once, he's sure of it. Plus it seems Murdoc is hiding from something. So it had to be that. Maybe a deal gone wrong. "Am I right?" His eyes were still on the door but he speared a short glance once more at Murdoc.

"Shhhh!" Murdoc's hand flew up to 2-D's mouth to cover it. "Shh, shh, SHHH! Wot the bloody 'ell is wrong with you! Don't just go 'round sayin' names and shit, you sod! You never know who, or what, might be listening. Do you want to get us both  _killed_? Come on, I'll tell ya on the way to the bathroom."

Murdoc pulled his hand away from Stuart once again and started walking toward the door. Every few steps on the way to the bathroom, he turned around to make sure 2-D was following him and not running for the elevators.

"Huh-?!" Once Murdoc's green hand made contact with his mouth 2-D winced, suprised and scared."mm.. Sowwy mate.."So he was right? When the hand was removed he followed Murdoc out the room and toward the bathroom. The brightness blinded him at first but he continued on. The singer licked his lips only to taste a hint of bitter alcohal. After that he wiped his mouth with his shirt in slight disgust. He than looked at his surroundings. It was the same as always. But this could be it now, but Mudz eyes kept burning into him every so often. He was watching him. "Are ya' goin' to tell me mudz?"

Murdoc was typically very good at hiding his real emotions, but in that moment he looked paranoid and, if you paid close attention, he even looked like there was something he was very bothered by and afraid of. He stopped walking right outside of the bathroom door. Reaching out to grab the singer's arm, he pulled him close, being a little too rough but not loosening his grip on his upper arm. He leaned in close, breath stale due to not having brushed his teeth before passing out drunk the night before.

His voice was low, spitting the words into 2-D's ear quickly. "Like I wos sayin', _**I**_  didn't kidnap you. Word got around that I wos tryin' to reunite the band, an' the bleedin' bastard found ya for me. I think they know we're 'ere, so we're /not/ goin' outside unless we're catchin' our food from the ocean, got it?" He sighed, knowing he probably wasn't making any sense to the singer. "Look, I sort of made a deal with someone that I prob'ly should 'ave thought through, but what's done is done. They brought you to me, not 'cuz I /asked/, but because they're usin' ya to get to me. And if they find me, we're both dead meat. Understand? I don't wanna talk 'bout this again, just go to the fucking bathroom." He let go of 2-D's arm, trying to get a grip over himself and mask his emotions once again. "Come on, we don't have all day you know. I have to do stuff for our new website later. We gotta make money somehow, so we gotta start makin' some music again."

 

 

"O-ow!?...Mudz?" The roughness startled the singer, he thougt maybe something he did made Murdoc mad. But his eyes found emotion written on the bassists face. Was he... afraid?"Mudz?" Stuart whimpered at the foul smell and closeness. Stuarts head hurt in confusion. Was he getting a migraine? This didn't make any sense at all."yer' confusin' me Murdoc.." So.. Murdoc didn't ask for him, then why is he still here? He could just leave and Murdoc would be fine right?"..aright'" 2-D nodded, rubbing his arm before entering the bathroom. The singer took his time ignoring Murdoc's request to hurry. By the time he finished a good 5 mintues have past. So he opened the door and walked out. "Me 'ead really 'urts..."

Murdoc was leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom, humming to himself while he waited. His thoughts were consumed by ones of how much shit he'd gotten himself into recently, so he barely noticed how much time had passed since 2-D went into the bathroom. When he came back out, Murdoc just glared at him.

"Oh, your head hurts, does it? You made me a deal. If I let you out, you swore to me you'd get yer lazy ass into the studio," he growled the words. He didn't show it, but he was glad that the singer was back in the same room as him, keeping his mind off of the pirates and the boogyman, who were all hunting _him_.

"I know Mudz... but I can't work if I got'ta headache.. I need my pills.." 2-D stared at the floor, his mind swimming in slight pain. It wasn't that bad but he knew it would get worse."I'll do wha' ya' want once you give me some.. this is yer' fault I have them.. so please." Yeah it was Murdoc's fault that this is happening. All of this."Take to me to the studio.. then get my pills. I'll start workin' on stuff while yer gone.. is that fine wit' ya?" The singer stared at Murdoc at that second searching for approval.

" _My_  fault? It's  _my_ fault you're even out of that bloody coma," he reminded 2-D. "I can't imagine Mr. Boogey grabbed your meds, did he? I've got some booze, some hard drugs, and some oxycontin. But if I give ye an oxycontin, you have to promise yer not jussss' gonna nod out like a light while we're recording. I don't know when we're ever gonna be able to leave this island anytime soon, so I'm only givin' ya one when you really need it, 'cuz I like to take 'em too."

The Satanist began to walk toward the elevator. "Would it hurt ya to ever use the word 'please?' And no, no, no. I am not leavin' you in the studio by yerself. Do you think that I'm stupid? You'll just run away. Not that you'd get very far. This island's not very big, and unless you plan on growing gills and becomin' a fish, I truly wish you luck if you think you'll survive the natural forces of the unforgivin' sea. I'll grab you some of me drugs from my bag on the couch."

Just as he just finished saying, as they walked passed the living room, Murdoc hopped over to the couch and grabbed his bag from the floor, swinging it over his shoulders before returning on his path to the elevator. Once there, he pressed the button to call the elevator to their floor. It was annoying how it always returned to the bottom floor on its own. He sighed at how long it was taking, but when the elevator beeped and the doors opened, he waited for 2-D to get into the elevator first, his gaze glued to the singer with an expression that could only be translated into 'One wrong move, don't forget. It just takes one wrong move.'

Stuart flinched at his words. He turned away from the bassist, feeling stupid of even asking of anything. He wanted to talk back but remained silent, following Murdoc again. "I did say please.." The male whispered to himself as Murdoc grabbed the bag full of drugs. 2-D eyed that bag. He just wanted to take the shit and run with it. But he waited with Murdoc for the elevator. Frustration started to rise and he glared back when he stepped in the elevator. And once Murdoc was in as well he choose to speak up."Ya know Murdoc I wouldn' have been in a coma in the first place if it wasn't for ya. And I wish I stayed in that bloody coma! So I wouldn't have to deal with yer bullshit!" 2-D didn't care about anything that moment, he was getting irritated so he pointed a judging finger at Murdoc" why dontcha just let me go?! I don't care if they get ya dumbass but don't involve me in yer bloody fucking mess!" He didn't know what he was saying, he cared about Murdoc but this is ridiculous.

Stuart's words echoed in his ears, stinging his heart. It was strange whenever Murdoc could actually feel his heart aching, because it happened so rarely he had practically forgotten that he even had one.

"I wish I would've left you in that bleedin' coma too," he screamed back as a reaction to getting his feelings hurt. He scowled so intently that his forehead was wrinkled, his nose looking even more deformed than usual.

"You think  _I'm_ difficult to be around? Have you met yerself?!" His temper was getting stronger by the second. He dropped his bag to the floor and full-on punched the button labeled "Studio" a few times, almost busting it from the panel. He didn't know why it surprised him to hear 2-D say he didn't care if he was murdered, because he knew he treated the singer as if he didn't care about him, even if he did. He cared about him a lot. He just didn't know how to be nice. He sincerely just didn't know. He'd never had anyone be nice to him, so he became a product of his many terrible environments, and was more like his father than he was comfortable admitting to himself.

"That's just great. Just fuckin' fantastic. I take care of yer useless catatonic vegetable brains every day, then I save yer pathetic life, and I turn you into a celebrity, and I don't even get a thank you? No, I just get a big fat 'wish you were dead, Murdoc, you piece of shit.' How do you think that makes me feel? You ungrateful little-"

He was cut off by the elevator ding. The doors opened to the music studio. He bent over and grabbed his bag, marching into the room angrily. He knew Stuart wouldn't try to stay in the elevator to escape to the ground floor. Not while Murdoc had the only cure for the singer's excruciating migraines. "You act like it's all my fault I ran you over. How was I supposed to know that would happen?! In case you forgot, that whole shit-show ruined my life way more than it did yours. Do you know how hard it is to get laid when you 'ave ta drag around Night of the Living _DUMB_ with you everywhere you go? Chicks aren't turned on by corpses. Especially yours. You were a nightmare to look at. A _litera_ l face ache." He was just trying to insult the other man as much as he could now, his feelings severely hurt. It was the only way he'd ever learned to truly protect himself - hurt others more before they hurt him more. It was a never-ending cycle of misery, really. But it was what it was.

"And for the last time, I didn't bring ya here. But I'm not letting you leave me." He didn't mean to say 'me,' but the word spilled from his mouth like word vomit, and it was too late to stop the word from adding itself to his sentence. "I can't exactly..." He paused. What he said next was really not easy for him to say. "I can't do this without ya, okay? I didn't know how to tell you that, but then you were delivered to me in a suitcase, and now you're mine again. Let's get to work."

He knew Murdoc would snap back, he knew that Murdoc would bring him down and crush any confidence he had. But it fucking hurt when it came. Hurt like a real bitch. Stuart shrunk into the corner of the elevator. Fiddling with his fingers, as he let Murdoc continue on. He was worried that even that bloody elevator button was broken. The singer knew he was useless and should be grateful that the green man took care of him, just everything was overwhelming him. His head was pounding with Murdoc's furious words consumed him. He hurt Murdoc and he was being punished for that. Tears stung his black eyes, he than gave in as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. 2-D needed this. He held in his pain for the past week and was finally letting it out. He sobbed out loud, his hands shaking and body trembling" s-shut up! All you care is about yourself! You don't care about me and how I feel! I just want noodle and Russ! I want to leave this fucking place!" The singer hissed out his words. He hid himself or at least tried. Then his body froze when the elevator opened and heard retreating footsteps. He stayed in his corner afraid to move. He was useless. He hated himself. Murdoc was right."M' sorry Mudz! M' so sorry! I know I'm useless!I don't need ya telling me! I appreciate everyfink!Thank you for takin' care of me! I-I want you alive! I didn' mean anything! Forgive me.." Before the elevator closed he stepped out wiping his face. Murdoc always amazed him. This surprised Stuart. His words went to mean to kinda sort. It confused and frustrated him. He than changed his demeanor right then and there from to begging for forgiveness to a cold plain voice." all ya want is money.. your using my voice for your own gain.. I don't belong to you.." He wiped fresh tears before walking as far away from the bandmate and sat at a piano. Placing his head on it.

Hearing 2-D say he wanted Noodle and Russel struck an unusual type of nerve in Murdoc. One that caused the anger to vanish immediately, replaced by a sickening depression and self-hatred. It made him feel physically sick, his eyes burning as tears stung his eyes. It took an enormous amount of self-control to stop the tears from spilling over his eyelids to down his face. For a man without much of a conscience, in all of his years alive, putting Noodle in danger and being responsible for the presumably deceased little girl was the biggest regret of his life. He wished he had a time machine. He was no stranger to being responsible for putting the people around him in inconsiderate, dangerous situations, but he wished he had a time machine more than anything in the world. No part of him ever wanted to put her in that kind of danger, and yet he'd done it. He had really fucked up.

Murdoc barely hear Stuart apologizing to him, or thanking him. All he could think about was Russel and Noodle, about how terrible of a person he had to be to do that to his band. His only friends. His only family.

The melancholic series of memories played in his mind for a couple of minutes, but he was able to snap out of the trance when 2-D had begun yelling at him again. For having such a beautiful singing voice, Murdoc really did hate hearing him when he yelled. It just didn't suit his soft voice, Murdoc had observed on numerous occasions.

A knot was forming in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow it down. Now was not going to be the day Stuart would get to see Murdoc Niccals cry for the first time. That simply wasn't going to happen. He couldn't let it. He _wouldn't._

Growling softly, Murdoc threw his bag on top of a keyboard and unzipped it with a harsh pull at the zipper, busting it off the bag. He grunted in annoyance, wondering what else could go wrong today. The Satanist dug around his bag for a few seconds until he found the bottle labeled "Oxycontin." Without saying anything in response to Stu's accusations of him, he walked over to the piano, unscrewing the lid of the bottle as he walked.

When he got to the piano, he dumped some pills into his hand. He placed them on the piano top and awkwardly pet Stu's hair for three seconds, tops, before pulling his hand back to screw the lid of the pill bottle back on.

"Don't take all of them at once," he instructed his singer, referring to the pills he'd placed next him. He didn't count, but eyeing them briefly he'd guess there were about 10 to 12 pills. It was almost half of what he had. He regretted being so generous for a split second, but grumbled something to himself about 'it's fine.'

Murdoc wasn't going to say he was sorry, because he only believed in saying sorry to children. But the actions of giving up so many of his best, highest strength drugs at once was a huge step for Murdoc. It was probably the nicest thing he'd done for anyone in fifteen years. Especially considering the fact that he highly doubted he'd be getting more any time soon. The bassist knew 2-D needed the pills. Oxycontin was a very strong pain killer, and he couldn't lie to himself. Stu needed them more than he did, he just liked taking them for the buzz. He knew that the poor, young, talented lad was in excruciating pain every single day because of him. He felt very bad about coming into Stuart Pot's life and fucking it all up for him, but that feeling was buried very deep inside of him, and that was one beast he was not ready to unleash. He already felt guilty enough as it was about Noodle and Russel, so 2-D would just have to wait for Murdoc's remorse to hit him full-on. Now was not the time.

"I'm serious, if you're jus' gonna pop all three of 'em at once, I'll shove my fist down your throat and pull 'em out 'fore you even finish swallowing them. I'm serious, I'll do it, and I don't think either of us want that," he warned Stuart, which basically translated into 'please don't kill yourself if I give you enough drugs to.'

His head rested against the cool surface of the keyboard. Stuart's mind was on over drive. He was thinking more than he should. He felt bad, weak, and just sad. 2-D didn't want this to happen, at all. This was not.. a great day. But he said what he wanted and so did Murdoc. It was fine.. was it? The singers ears perked up at the soft noise of a bottle opening. He knew what it was, especially when he heard the soft pattering of the pills on the keyboard.. then a hand touched him. So gently but in awkward movements. He didn't move.. the feeling was so foreign and he liked it a bit. It wasn't like Murdoc and any second he waited the hand to yank his hair, but it never happened it just retreated and didn't come back. Then the threat came. It wasn't bad, it made him laugh though. So he looked at Murdoc, and made sure he was looking back at him before grabbing all the pills he gave the man and pocketed all of them except one. He held it out to Murdoc as proof of him just taking one and swallowed it dryly. "Happy?" Stuart stuck out his tongue playfully as he mouthed a soft thank you before resting his head again to let the pill kick in.

Murdoc noticed 2-D's demeanor completely changing once Murdoc offered him the pills. It was refreshing to see him in a slightly happier state, he had to admit. "Hopefully it helps with the hunger. I didn't really think the whole food thing through. May 'ave ta call someone who can bring some supplies on a helicopter or a boat out here for us." That was the closest thing Stu was getting to an apology.

Murdoc walked back over to where his bag was, slipping the bottle back to where he pulled it from. He couldn't zip the bag due to the zipper having fallen off, so he just threw a pillow on top of his bag and walked over to the guitar stand holding his bass. Murdoc picked it up and then sat in a padded arm chair, draping his legs over the side of the chair. He begun strumming some of the music he'd been working on while he'd been on his own, trying to pick up the pieces of the shattered and scattered band he'd had such a great first two albums with. He hoped 2-D's muse would strike soon and he'd join Murdoc in composing music. Even when they weren't getting along, there was always magic between the duet as musicians every time they played together.

"Mm.. I can tell" He spoke softly, replying to Murdoc. He hopes it'll help with the hunger too."ok Mudz.. but I need food.. so could you please get someone to bring some" He was starving but he couldn't keep his mind on the topic anymore. The pain was dulling and he felt a small buzz from the pill. Stuart laid his face flat on the keyboard hitting keys, that made a awful sound. But he didn't care, the singer just watched his bassist play the bass. Did he learn this while the band took a break? The blunette was curious. His long fingers than scratched his head, his gaze caught on the broken bag. He could take anything he wanted right now. But he had pills and would be unnecessary to do so. Soon he stood up, making his way to a window. He peered through it. What he say was bitter to him. It was the outside world but he knew he couldn't go out.

“I'll see what I can do," he replied in response to his request about the food. Murdoc was starving too, and it was starting to make him nauseas. After playing a few new ideas he had for some songs on the bass, his fingers ceased their movement on the strings of his beloved instrument. He sat up all the way, using his elbow to support his weight.

"Oi, 2-D. I could use yer help with this, I think I'm onto somethin'. Will ya jump onto guitar, or at least sing or something? Let's find us a melody."

Stuart admired the view for a bit. Even if it was mocking him. Could a beach mock someone? Stuart shook his head, hearing Murdoc's voice in the distance. His headache was completly gone. No pain just a buzz. Stuart turned to the bassists and walked to him. Sitting down on the floor, grabbing a nearby guitar. He strummed the strings and hummed softly."do ya got any songs?"

The singer's voice was music to Murdoc's ears. He'd had a few drunken nights where he'd had conversations with himself and discovered that his favorite sound in the world was 2-D singing. He would never admit that though.

"Yeah I do actually." Murdoc leaned over the chair to the table beside it, grabbing a manilla folder with some songs in it he'd been working on. He pulled out some lyrics to a song titled 'Broken' and handed it to his singer. "Play around with this, I'll show you what I've been thinkin' for this song."

He began to play his bass again, playing slow, deep, low. When he'd written the lyrics, he could hear Stu's voice in his head as he wrote them, and was excited to hear how close to his original idea it would sound to how the blunette interpreted it. The Satanist loved working with 2-D so much it was probably unhealthy, but people seemed to really like the shit they'd put out for their first two albums, so Murdoc wasn't going to let go of the glory of success yet.

Stuart took the paper with the lyrics. He stared at it trying to decipher the handwriting before going along with Murdoc's bass."Distant stars coming black or red, I've seen their worlds inside my head.. They connect with the fall of man, they breathe you in and dive as deep as they can... There's nothing you can say to him, he is outer heart and the space has been broken.. Its broken our love broken.." Stuart paused casting his gaze at Murdoc in question.  
  
"Is this a sad love song or somfin'?" The singer asked in curiosity before changing the subject quickly "That's a real great tune Mudz! But I wanna try me melodica at some points in the song.."

Murdoc had almost forgotten how good Stuart's voice was. He was used to hearing him sing by now, or he probably would've been too distracted to play the bass lines he'd composed for the song. Murdoc had no problem telling the singer when he was doing bad, so whenever he complimented 2-D's vocals, he was absolutely sincere with his words. "Wow, D, that's really good." All of the anger that consumed him not even ten minutes prior had vanished. This was his happy place - in the studio, making music that really sounded brilliant, and being fortunate enough to hear Stuart singing live more than anybody else on the planet got to experience. He remembered the first time Stu had sung for him. He remembered the chills that ran down his spine, causing his green-toned skin to break out into goosebumps. Murdoc was very passionate about music. Sure, he may have been making tons of music to launch their band to fame and bask in the riches that came with musical success in the beginning, but the satanic bass player meant what he said about not being able to do this without Stu. It wasn't about the blue-haired, absent-eyed man he had saved by accident at first. At first, 2-Dents was just a convenient inconvenience, with a pretty face, and the voice that had to be from the heavens above. However, Murdoc knew the reason he was so adamant about making more music. It wasn't about the money. Money comes and goes for him at this point. Murdoc was doing everything he could to keep his little songbird in his life, and without knowing how to express his feelings, he was willing to take drastic measures to make it happen.

"A wot? A sad love song? I don' fuckin' know! Wot you askin' stupid questions for, ey?" 2-D changed the subject fast enough to avoid ruining the joyous mood Murdoc was suddenly embodying. "You mean that miniature keyboard you blow into right?" He tried not to think about Stu's lips, but failed miserably, cursing himself silently when he caught himself staring at the other man's lips, his own lips parted, damn nearly drooling. He looked away as soon as he caught himself, not wanting to be caught by Stu himself. "I can see how that'd work, great idea. I think your melodeeda, whatever, is in a box behind the microphones." He gestured to the corner where instruments and musical equipment and wires were stored when not being used. Murdoc had yet to really organize the studio the way he would prefer, but they'd only been there a short amount of time. He made a mental note to have Cyborg Noodle organize their studio soon. "Grab it, let's try this song again."


	2. Far Away, In The Glitter Freeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc and 2-D play around with the sound of a new song in the studio, and 2-D is hopeful after Murdoc makes him a deal that will hopefully help the two hungry men find food on their little trashed and deserted island of isolation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the last two paragraphs from the previous chapter at the beginning of this chapter, because Chapter 2 continues from the exact moment Chapter 1 leaves off. I promise I'll tackle editing better as this story goes on! Hope you are enjoying reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it!

Murdoc had almost forgotten how good Stuart's voice was. He was used to hearing him sing by now, or he probably would've been too distracted to play the basslines he'd composed for the song. Murdoc had no problem telling the singer when he was doing bad, so whenever he complimented 2-D's vocals, he was absolutely sincere with his words. "Wow, D, that's really good."

 

All of the anger that consumed him not even ten minutes prior had vanished. This was his happy place - in the studio, making music that really sounded brilliant, and being fortunate enough to hear Stuart singing live more than anybody else on the planet got to experience. He remembered the first time Stu had sung for him. He remembered the chills that ran down his spine, causing his green-toned skin to break out into goosebumps. Murdoc was very passionate about music. Sure, he may have been making tons of music to launch their band to fame and bask in the riches that came with musical success in the beginning, but the satanic bass player meant what he said about not being able to do this without Stu. It wasn't about the blue-haired, absent-eyed man he had saved by accident at first. At first, 2-Dents was just a convenient inconvenience, with a pretty face, and the voice that had to be from the heavens above. However, Murdoc knew the reason he was so adamant about making more music. It wasn't about the money. Money comes and goes for him at this point. Murdoc was doing everything he could to keep his little songbird in his life, and without knowing how to express his feelings, he was willing to take drastic measures to make it happen.

 

"A wot? A sad love song? I don' fuckin' know! Wot you askin' stupid questions for, ey?" asked Murdoc. 2-D had changed the subject fast enough to avoid ruining the joyous mood Murdoc was suddenly embodying. "You mean that miniature keyboard you blow into right?" He tried not to think about Stu's lips, but failed miserably, cursing himself silently when he caught himself staring at the other man's lips, his own lips parted, damn nearly drooling. He looked away as soon as he caught himself, not wanting to be caught by Stu himself. "I can see how that'd work, great idea. I think your _melodeeda_ , whatever, is in a box behind the microphones." He gestured to the corner where instruments and musical equipment and wires were stored when not being used. Murdoc had yet to really organize the studio the way he would prefer, but they'd only been there a short amount of time. He made a mental note to have Cyborg Noodle organize their studio soon. "Grab it, let's try this song again."

 

Stuart nodded in agreement. It was indeed a keyboard you blow into. It was easy to play for Stuart, but like any instrument, it took time to get the right tune while simultaneously fingering the correct keys.

  
2-D smiled at Murdoc, his missing front teeth showing for a moment before correcting the green devil. "Its called a Melodica."

 

Stuart stood up and lazily made his way to the instruments. He bent over, searching for his beloved instrument, but had no immediate success.

  
  
"Aye... I can't find it Mudz! ... Wait... Never mind, mate! Found it!" It was hidden from the singer beneath another box. He pulled out a case and hugged it happily as he walked fast to Murdoc and sat down in front of him, pulling out a Melodica along with pipes and two regular mouth pieces. Murdoc watched as his singer hugged onto his instrument. A part of him felt bad that the instrument had offered 2-D more affection in their little reunion hug than the blue-haired man was probably going to receive for a very long time. But then Murdoc's mind focused on the contentment that came along with the fact that 2-D was distracted and, for the first time since their arrival, was focused on something other than his own escape from Plastic Beach.

 

The Melodica was a beautiful light blue, it seemed new. But he knew it probably wasn't, perhaps it had just been cleaned well. The singer attached a mouth piece, gently putting his mouth around it and tested the keys. They sounded fine. So he waved to Murdoc to start playing his bass again. At the signal, Murdoc began to strum his bass again, the familiar bass line of _"B_ _roken"_  beginning to ring through the room. Murdoc had to admit it to himself; It was a very good song. 2-D kept his eyes on Murdoc, the sound of his bass inspiring him. He started to hit the keys on his Melodica that sounded like they would flow with the vibe of Murdoc's bass notes. He struggled at first, then smiled to himself around the mouthpiece as he nailed it. It sounded right. Well, at least 2-D thought it did.

Stuart stopped playing, wiping off his mouthpiece with his shirt. "'Ow did tha' sound? Impressed right?" The singer asked and laughed a little, waiting for Murdoc's response. He did hope that it sounded good enough for Murdoc's standards.

 

"Yeah, yeah, it sounded great, D. Think you're ready to record vocals? I wanna get this shit recorded 'fore it leaves us. Do you know what I mean? Like, right now we've really got it gooooin' on. Yes, yeah. Yeaahhh! I am impressed by myself, definitely. You're not too bad either." He snickered.

 

All morning Murdoc had worn a grim face, as if the world bothered him for existing. But in that moment, the Satanist was actually smiling. 2-D sighed at the bassists behavior. It was a breath of fresh air to see him like this. The green man was actually smiling, and that made 2-D feel.. light. Like nothing was worrying him, that maybe Mudz was actually happy about something for once.

 

"A'right.. I think I'm ready.. but yeah fanks," replied 2-D. He stood up and waited for Murdoc to stand up as well. "Hey Mudz.. is this the only song we're recording today? And if we are.. are ya... going ta jus'... put me back in my room?" Stuart was not looking forward to this studio session coming to an end, as he had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen, but he wanted to know for sure. He hoped maybe he could stay somewhere else but he knows it would be a stupid thing to ask. Especially before hearing Murdoc's answer.

 

Murdoc pushed himself up to a standing position from the chair he was occupying. He had practically forgotten that 2-D was technically his prisoner, until the blue-haired man brought it up. His smile disappeared. "I don't really wanna put you back in there," he started to say quietly. "But how can I trust that you won't jus' run away from me?" He asked in a serious tone, a tiny of sadness and worry in his mismatching eyes. "Look, I dunno if I'm willin' ta take tha' chance. Why'd you gotta bring that up righ' now anyways, ey?"

 

The Satanist plugged one of the microphones in, carrying the stand over to where 2-D was standing. He positioned the microphone on the stand and grabbed a pair of headphones for the singer. He plugged them in before holding them out for him to take. "Let's jus' focus on this, alright? We can talk about tha' other stuff later, but for now I need ya ta do yer job, so I can do mine."

 

Stuart bit down on his lip.He had only brought it up because was scared. Scared of that whale that he was positive was stalking him, and scared of just.. being alone in a cold, dark room with a shitty excuse for a bed without any food, water, or access to a proper bathroom. 2-D wanted to fight back with Murdoc's statement, but deep down he knew Murdoc was right. Of _course_ he still wanted to escape, to be free from this plastic prison. But he didn't speak up, instead just watching as the satanic bassist prepared the microphone for him.

 

Stuart showed a weak smile and took the headphones from Murdoc. "A'righ' Mudz.. I understand.." No, he didn't understand this at all. It was all madness. But there wasn't much he could say without fear of being punished again.

 

2-D placed the headphones over his ears, keeping his eyes on Mudz, waiting for a sign to start. When he got that sign, he let his voice out. He sang with as much emotion into the microphone as Mudz had seemingly put meaning into writing the song.

 

" _Distant stars come in black or red, I've seen their worlds inside my head, they connect with the fall of man, they breathe you in and dive as deep as they can, there's nothing you can say to him, he is an outer heart and the space has been broken, its broken our love, broken our love, is it far away in the glitter freeze, or in our eyes.. every time they meet.._ " The haunting melancholy coated thick through the singer's voice added the perfect sound to the words leaving his mouth along with Murdoc's bass. The singer continued with the vocals, before pausing to say, "We're going to add the Melodica in later right?"

 

The Satanist was practically in a trance until Stuart broke the musical reality to ask about his melodica. "Huh? Yeah, yeah, sure, wotever ye want. Redo the chorus again with yer voice first, yeah?" The blue haired singer rolled his eyes. Of course Murdoc wanted to nail this recording so he could work with it later on with the drum machine, and maybe even break out the Cyborg Noodle to add some guitar to the song. The song was still very new, and he was playing around with different ideas in his head about how it should sound. So far, so good, Murdoc thought.

 

"Okay..." Clearing his throat, 2-D began again with the chorus, just as instructed to do.

 

" _It's broken.. our love, broken... our love._. _Is_ _it far away in the glitter freeze, or in our eyes, every time they meet? It's by the light of the plasma screen, we keep switched on all through night while we sleep... There's nothing you can do for them.. They are the force between when the sunlight is arising... There's nothing you can say to her... I am without a heart and the space has been broken.. it's broken, our love, broken.. broken... broken.. broken_ "

 

There was a meaning behind this song, 2-D could feel it. He really wished Murdoc would open up to him about where he pulled his inspiration for the songs he would write, because they really were emotional, beautiful songs, much different than the personality of the writer. He wondered if Murdoc ever had anyone to talk to at all. Probably not...

 

"Wos tha' okay?" 2-D asked. "Or should I do it again?"

 

Murdoc finished up playing around with a few different sounds with his bass before he answered. "I liked that one. Let's rrrreeecord some ' _melodica_ ' now." He added extra emphasis on the word 'melodica,' as if to show off that he knew the word now, thanks to Stuart. The singer grimaced at Murdoc. Was he messing around? He shrugged it off, excited he could actually try out adding some of his melodica into the sound of the song. It would make it a little better, in the singer's opinion.

 

Then Murdoc felt his stomach growl, and he moved his hand to rub it through his shirt. He was starving. Removing the headphones, Stuart heard Murdoc's stomach growling, and realized they were equally as hungry. Then 2-D mentally cheered when Murdoc said, "We can go try an' catch some food after this."

 

 "W-wait? So you mean we can go ou'side later?" Stuart widened his empty eyes, he hasn't been outside for a week and he misses it. "If we can both go ou'side.. I promise I'll be good.." Stu promised, his eyes pleading. It surprised Murdoc a little to see how excited 2-D got, although he wasn't sure why it surprised him. He imagined if their roles were reversed, he would probably be developing some sort of cabin fever psychosis by now.

"Yes, we're both goin' ou'side, 2-D. I need help catchin' fish. I know you'll be good," he cooed. It seemed like he had the singer wrapped around his finger, and he didn't want to slip up and lose the metaphorical grip he had on the man. Because when he lost the metaphorical grip, his anger usually got the best of him, almost always resulting in a very busted and blue 2-D. "Let's finish recordin' what we got, then I'll take ya out."

 

Pointing to himself, 2-D nodded profusely. "I promise I'll be really good at it!" He didn't know how to fish, but that didn't really matter because  _he was going outside!_  Stuart then picked up his melodica again. "You _pr_ _omise_ right?! Because if ya promise then... let's hurry!" The singer was beyond excited. Murdoc was trusting him for the moment. This was his chance to get out and see the world again. "Come on!" 2-D shouted happily, getting ready to start playing again.

 

Murdoc had to smirk, enjoying the way 2-D would snap out of his depression once in a while, acting like an animated sunshine-y bundle of joy. It was one of the reasons Mudz kept him around; Someone had to balance out his darkness, and 2-D was very good at that. "Yeah, I promise." A dark laugh escaped his lips, but he was sincere. Shivers spread throughout Stu's lanky body as that familiar laugh was made from his bandmate. But it didn't seem like a bad laugh, after all Mudz seemed like he was being truthful about this. Plus he promised they will, so the singer hopes that his promise was real. It was. Murdoc _did_  plan on taking D outside with him.

 

"Don't rush jus' 'cuz you're excited now, alright? I still need ya to take yer job seeerrriously! Jus' focus on _this_ , right here, right now. Maybe after we eat you can help me pick out what kind of drums we need for this, and I'll turn on Cyborg Noodle and get a little guitar in here too." Murdoc hit the record button again. "Ready when you are."

 

"I know! But ya' serious..? Cool!" Stuart felt special; If he did good maybe most of the song would be decided by him. Like he was actually a part of the band. Well, he was a part of the band, but Murdoc rarely made him feel included in the crucial construction of the music.

 

"Okay.. just.." Stuart blew into the mini piano and began to press the keys, remembering Murdoc's bass from earlier. He knew they would need a clean recording of the melodica, just in case Murdoc decided to cut it out later.

  
Murdoc stayed silent as he let 2-D do his thing, entranced in the moment by the beautiful sound the instrument made. It never failed to amaze Murdoc how multi-talented his little songbird was. He not only had an outstanding voice, but he could play almost any instrument he picked up. He could more than just play it too, that was the thing; He actually sounded great!

 

Stu took a breather from playing, out of breath. He wanted to get everything perfect for Mudz. He wanted to help with the songs, and now his mind was focused on how badly he wanted to go outside for once. So he played again, trying to stay focused like he had been told to do. He only stopped playing whenever he needed to catch up on his breathing. He was hoping he was doing good enough job so the bassist would like it.

 

"Wos I it okay?" Stuart asked quietly. "Could.. we go out now?"

 

Murdoc was happy with what Stu gave him musically for the time being. He placed his bass back on its stand. "Yes, you did good. We can piece what we did together after we eat, now let's go. I'm gonna pass out if I don't eat somethin' soon." He ended the recording and made sure it saved before turning off the drum machine that was hooked up to the microphone and his bass' amp, which he was using to record their music for the time being. He flipped the amp off and switched off all but one tiny light in the room to save electricity. They didn't have any money yet, and they wouldn't until they started selling some new music. Murdoc couldn't express how crucial this fact was to 2-D enough times. He grabbed his bag and walked over to the elevator where he waited for the singer, pressing the button to call the elevator to their service.

 

"Yes! Ok!" 2-D quickly put the melodica in its case as carefully as he could while in such a hurry, and placed it on a nearby chair, while quickly fishing out the pills he had in his pocket and setting them down on a keyboard. He doesn't want to lose them when they're the only thing that could temporarily cure his headaches. After Murdoc was done and waiting for him to get into the elevator, Stuart walked pretty fast, joining up with the other man, eagerness spread across his face.

 

"Wait.. that whale won't eat us while we're out there right?" 2-D had a undying fear of that bloody whale and didn't want to become the whale's meal while he and Murdoc were trying to catch  _their_ meal.

 

Murdoc spun around to face 2-D, raising an eyebrow. The expression he wore showed how clearly amused he was. "No promises. Whales 'ave ta eat too, ye know, Faceache," he teased. For some reason, he found it hilarious that Stuart was so bloody terrified of a whale. Murdoc hadn't witnessed the whale tormenting 2-D, and thought the singer was being overdramatic. He thought it was hilarious. "But don't worry, I'll protect ya. Unless you piss me off." He was only joking, but he didn't care if 2-D thought he was serious or not.

 


	3. The Spinning Tackle

_Ding!_

Murdoc stepped inside of the elevator and pressed the button that would take them to the ground floor. This would be 2-D's first time with access to the ground floor since he'd first arrived over a week ago. "Look, I promise I'm not gonna let you get eaten by the bloody whale, Faceache. Not today, anyways," said Murdoc.  
  
"O-oh jeez..." Stu covered his face with his hands when he thought about a whale gobbling him whole. The thought actually terrified him, there was no denying it. What if the bloody whale did eat him?

Stuart faced Murdoc again. "-Wait really? I-I won't do anything..." Fiddling with his hands he waited for the elevator to arrive at their destination. A small part of Stuart feared that Murdoc would simply push him into the ocean for a laugh. Still, he counted on Murdoc for protection against said beast, even if the whale probably didn't want anything to do with humans to begin with. It was ironic how much comfort he found in the bassist promising to protect him against the whale, and Stuart imagined in a parallel universe, he would be asking the whale to protect him from Murdoc instead. 

They were both in danger, truth be told. It was pretty normal for Murdoc, but he knew Stuart wasn't used to such a high-adrenaline, unpredictable lifestyle. Once the elevator opened to the ground floor, Murdoc nodded his head toward the open doors, waiting for 2-D to step out first.

Stepping out of the elevator before Murdoc, Stuart was welcomed by something new. He hadn't had the chance to explore their plastic beach at all since he'd gotten there. He knew he was one step closer to the outside world once more, imagining what it would feel like to have freedom again in his head.

Murdoc led the way to a janky dock where there were a few random fishing poles propped up against a bucket of worms. He'd caught himself a few fish before 2-D got here, but he had been so busy making sure his singer didn't get away from him that he'd forgotten to feed either of them. That wasn't the best idea, on his part, considering they were probably going to get sick if they didn't feed themselves properly. 2-D was already skin and bones as it was, and Murdoc wasn't far behind at this rate.

"You ever fish before? If not, well, today's the day you learn. Me Pops taugh' me when I was jus' four years old." The sun was partially covered by clouds, causing an overcast. It was humid outside, but the wind was chilly. It was about mid-afternoon, and there was probably a good two hours left before the sun would set. This was a great time to catch fish, from what Murdoc could remember.  
  
"No.. oh?" replied 2-D, confused as ever. He was fascinated that Murdoc shared something about his childhood with him though, even if it was a minor detail about his life Stuart didn't really know that much about Murdoc's life before Gorillaz, and naturally he was curious but he never felt comfortable asking. The right moment hadn't come yet, and he was sure it would someday, but... he thought it would be best if Murdoc chose the day himself that they start opening up to one another about personal things.

2-D grabbed a pole and followed Mudz. The cool breeze that drifted in from the ocean was even better than Stuart had imagined it would be. It was beautiful outside! Even if the island was made of trash and spray-painted pink, the view was breathtaking.

Murdoc's mood swings were too much for anyone to handle. They were too much for him to even handle himself, but at least now he was in a relatively good mood. Mostly because he had someone to help him catch some food, and he felt so hungry that he was about to find one of his guns and hunt the bleedin' whale 2-D was so scared of. That would feed them for days, but as fucked up as Murdoc was, he wasn't sure he could eat a mammal. Maybe if he really had to? But it didn't seem ideal. Besides, he'd gone fishing here right before 2-D showed up, and had no problem catching nice big salmons and wahoos, and mahi-mahis and tunas, he even caught a swordfish once. The bassist opened the bucket of live worms, pulling two out in between his fingers. They squirmed around, confused and helpless. "So this is what the fish are gonna be attracted to," he explained, even though it was pretty much common sense. He picked up a fishing pole and hooked a worm onto the end of it, sliding the hook right through it. Murdoc then dangled the other worm close to 2-D's face.

"You try it," Murdoc said.

Stuart held his fishing pole close to his body, fear and sadness written on his face. They had to feed such a small helpless creature to a animal they are going to eat. For some reason it didn't feel right to Stuart at all.

 

"We're usin, tha' Murdoc?" He pointed to the worm but was soon placed on the hook. He flinched back immediately when the worm came close to him. 2-D frowned, hesitant to do anything"I-Its suffering Mudz.." Stuart poked the poor worm, then finding the courage to grab his own, he followed what Murdoc had shown him and put it on the hook. He felt really bad about this, but they really needed food, so he held back on being squeamish as much as he could. 2-D glanced back and forth between Murdoc and the ocean, waiting for further instructions.

"We're sufferin' too," Murdoc reminded him. "And there ain't exactly a supermarket anywhere around here. It's the circle o' life." Of course 2-D would get sad about a lousy worm. "Unless you want me to tie a rope 'round you and stick you down in the water and wait for a shark or that whale to come by, and then maybe I'll get lucky with my aim and be able to hunt it, and not accidentally shoot you." He wasn't serious. He would never do that. But that didn't mean he was above making 2-D think that was an option.

When 2-D was a child, he was pretty sheltered. He didn't get to do what other kids did when younger. Not that he had any idea that Murdoc only knew how to fish because his father forced him to learn for the benefit of none other but himself to have some dinner, forget the boys who were forced to make the actual catch and punished quite viciously if they failed in any way.

Stuart had quite the opposite upbringing. He had always been told that he was going to work at his father's fairground and didn't have to worry about anything else.

Murdoc continued, "So grip the rod with your casting hand 'round the real seat." He demonstrated for 2-D to see, placing his index and middle finger around the reel, and his other two fingers behind it. He then reeled his line until his bait was about 7 and a half inches from the rod tip. “Crook yer index finger like this to pick up tha line ahead of the reel an’ press it against the rod. Then you need ta open the reel bail.” The bail is a loop of wire on the rotating rim outside and behind the reel spool. It gathers the line when you reel in and deposits it on the spool. Opening it moves It out of the way of the line so you can cast your lure. Murdoc did each step slowly, hoping 2-D was paying attention.

“Now be careful with this part. The last thing we need is a fish hook flyin’ into our eyeballs.” Murdoc swung his rod back past his shoulder. He then swept the rod forward, releasing the line as he extended his arm. He explained what he was doing while he did it. “To help target your bait to the casting area, point your index finger at the place ye wanna release the line,” he tipped 2-D. “It’s kinda tricky at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. You’re a pretty speedy learner. This is called a spinning tackle. Its roots go back to the 1870’s, but modern spinning reel was introduced in 1948 by some French manufacturer. It’s very versatile, once you get the technique down.” Murdoc was very proud to know so much about fishing. His father had forced him to learn, and he could never shake the desperation of wanting to please his father, even years after having escaped his own personal hell where he was never good enough for his father no matter how hard he tried. A part of him that never got to grow up due to being born a victim of neglectful parenting when he was very young, still wanted so badly to make his old man proud, even though he knew that was no longer an option or a reality for him. Oh well, he thought, doing what he always did when it came time to face his feelings; He buried them deep down under anger and annoyance, trying to focus on the fact that he was way better than his dad could’ve ever been, and he couldn’t prove it to his dad, but he knew it for a fact. He  _had_  to be better than him. Or what was the point? That was when it hit Murdoc like a ton of red bricks. He wasn’t acting much better than his father. He had his only friend held captive on an island in the middle of the ocean. This made him feel a little nauseous and weak at the knees.

Stuart was beyond confused, but copied Murdoc's movements. He stared dumbfounded, not grasping the topic of fishing at all. He pretended to at least be trying to cast the line, but the whole concept baffled him silly. He just really wanted to avoid getting in trouble with Murdoc. The bassist sure knew a lot about fishing, 2-D noted to himself in slight admiration. For the satanist to go in such  great detail about something so ordinary wowed the singer, being taught something aside from anything musically related kind of fascinated 2-D. Murdoc watched Stu try and fail a few times. Murdoc's line was casted out into the sea, and he leaned against it as he waited for something to snag the bait so he could reel it in. He laughed a little at 2-D, remembering how hard it was the first few times he'd tried to fish with his dad. He'd failed even worse than Stuart was now, and his father had beaten him black and blue for not getting it right away. A tiny part of him felt the urge to hit 2-D, to scare him into getting it right, just like his father had done to him. But he wouldn't allow himself to, not while he was thinking of his father this way. Instead, he focused on his breathing until he could calm down from feeling so angry about his childhood memories.

"Wow.. ya know a lot 'bout fishing huh?" Stuart said, more to himself than to Murdoc.

"Yeah, I fished a lot when I was a kid," was all he said about the subject. Partly because he didn't want to talk about that very personal, haunting part of his life

“Hey Faceache, would you be interested in sleepin’ in me room with me tonight instead’a your room?” He regretted it as soon as he made the offer, but he’d regretted the fact that he was acting like an exact replica of his father by torturing 2-D even more.

2-D was so focused on how to cast it, he didn't realize Mudz request. Until it played in his head again. Sparking something in those black empty eyes.

"Wait.. ye mean tha'? I can sleep with you tonigh'?" he asked Murdoc, making sure he had heard him clearly and not just hallucinated those words as a side effect of some sort of delirium from lack of food. If Murdoc was serious... he felt over powering joy right that second. He wouldn't be alone! He was going to be in a warm room with actual furniture in it! And no whales! 2-D was overly excited by his offer to spend the night in his room. It was kind of funny, when Murdoc thought about the fact that 2-D practically hated him 98% of the time now, but he was still so excited to be in Murdoc's room with him, where Mudz would still watch his every move, but he'd have much more freedom. Plus, there was a bedroom in the bassist's room, and a mini fridge that had no food, but had a few pieces of candy and some IPA beers, plus a couple of root beers and some lemonade. It would be much better than his underwater room where the whale stalked him. Not that Murdoc knew how much the mammal was really tormenting him. He never believed 2-D when he talked about it, assuming it was an overly exaggerated excuse to try and make Murdoc feel bad for him. He'd have to try harder than that, the older had thought all week. But now he was really giving 2-D the chance to have a somewhat normal night.

"Yeah, mate. Ye look like proper shit. Have ya even slept at all since you've been 'ome?" He made sure to call Plastic Beach 'home,' dead set on his mission to make 2-D like it here, or at least accept the fact that he wasn't leaving in the near future. The word 'home' haunted Stuart, ringing in his ears. It was tearing him apart, because this wasn't his home and he never wanted it to be. But being him, he didn't speak up about it. He was just glad to have a warm place to sleep tonight and to have someone by his side. Even if the man he was going to sleep with was the one who trapped him here.

"I think tonight ya can sleep with me. You've earned it. Today's been real good, thanks for behavin'," said Murdoc.

Stuart's dark eyes stared into the ocean. He stopped casting his rod at some point. He was to distracted by the blue melancholic waves that rocked back and forth. It was really nice out, the wind felt great against his porcelain skin. But most of all, he was thinking about what Murdoc said "Ya?" Was the only answer he could let out.

Murdoc felt something tugging on his pole. He grabbed 2-D's fishing pole out of his hand and handed him his pole. "We caught somethin' big! Just reel it in, but be careful, when it tugs, don't force the reel too hard, bring it in nice an' easy or we'll lose the hook and the bloody thing will swim off with a free lip piercing and a worm and we won't have jack." He wanted 2-D to reel it in, because he clearly wasn't ready to cast his own line yet, and they'd definitely just caught something decent sized judging by how hard it was tugging on the line. "Woo!"

Wha'?!" The pole was tugging and Stuart was panicking. He was doing his best to follow what the bassist was saying. Reeling it in a easy pace, but the creature tugged more "Ohhh god!" The blue haired singer backed up, tugging on the pole just a bit as he reeled it in more. His skinny body couldn't handle this. But when he thought it was close enough he grabbed the wire like a idiot and pulled up and towards him. He could see it now, it was a medium sized beauty... and it was coming towards him. He let go of the pole but the fish was still attached and landed in his arms. 2-D squealed, throwing the fish along with pole farther on the beach, as far away from him.  But due to that he stumbled, tripping over himself and landing on his side. He didn't react only sat up and pointed at the fish, screaming, "Agghh! G-get it! Get it Mudz! Hurry!"

Murdoc laughed loud at 2-D's reaction, and he laughed even harder when 2-D tripped and fell. He held back his urge to make a comment about how useless he felt like the singer was being, but decided it was sometimes better to pick your battles, and he had a fish to catch. Pulling a knife out of his bag, he quickly made his way down the short pier and onto the shoreline. He stepped on the wire with his booted foot, causing the fish to flop around as it desperately looked for water while it suffocated in the air. Murdoc walked along the wire until he got to the fish. Grabbing it by the face, he flicked his knife open and slit the fish's throat to end its suffering. He slid his knife back into its shell and slid it into his pocket, picking the fish up by the tail. It flopped a few more times until it was restless, dead weight in Murdoc's now bloodied hand. "Wot d'ya say, dullard, should we eat this big guy?" He grinned a crooked, sharp-toothed grin. The fish was huge, enough for a few meals at least. And they really needed to eat. "Pull that other line out of the water, but don' use yer hands this time, stupid. Did the line cut you?" He referred to when Stuart had grabbed the line to try and bring the fish in while the fish was tugging furiously at the line in the opposite direction. He imagined the line would have sliced 2-D's hands, having made that same mistake in his youth a couple of times before learning his lesson.

The green man approached the poor suffering fish. Stuart wasn't sure what Murdoc was going to do until he actually witnessed it. He picked up fish and slit its throat. It's goddamn throat! That was enough to make 2-D woozy as the scene replayed in his mind. He felt sick. But he brushed the feeling away and focused getting up. He used his hands to support his weight, while he got up. "I dunno anymore Mudz.. Now I feel really bad.." Stuart rubbed his right arm in a unsure manner. But he did as told, grabbing the other fishing pole, carrying it to Murdoc and passing it to him while ignoring the dead fish in his other hand"um..?" He hasn't felt anything, so he doesn't think he's hurt. Well not until he actually checks. And when he does he... he didn't aspect it. His palms were facing him while his left was fine but his right was covered in blood and a deep gash in the palm, sand in and around it. "Ew! Mudz! Lookie!" 2-D felt woozy again, showing the male his cut. "This is gross Mudz.. Oi.. I feel sick now.." He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

Murdoc glanced at Stuart's injured hand and sighed loudly, acting as if it were the most annoying thing in the world, despite being mildly amused at the poor lad's stupidity. "Can't do anythin' right, can ya?" he grumbled, acting like it were a lot worse than it was. "I need ya to get the door for me, and I'll bandage ya up inside." He waited for 2-D before he'd make a move, still not trusting that if he turned his back on the man, that he wouldn't just run away, even though there wasn't really anywhere to go. Both the fish and Stuart were dripping blood, coloring the sand a deep, dark red. Murdoc wasn't bothered by the sight, but from past memories with the singer, he knew 2-D was probably about to vomit any moment, having always had the weaker stomach of the two men. "Does it hurt?"

Stuart wrinkled his nose at Murdoc, he didn't mean for it to happen. It just did. He did it in the heat of the moment. Now the bassist was acting as if he was even more of a nuisance than he already was."'m sorry Mudz.. it was on accident." He shook his bleeding hand, blood splattering more on the sand. But he choose to ignore it again."a'right." The man made his way to the door only to stop and look back at the beautiful scenery. He took a deep breath before he answered Murdoc. "...No? I-it doesn't... jus'... stings a bit, but.." Opening the door, he stood there staring at Murdoc with hopeful eyes and spoke in a hopeful tone. "Um, Mudz.. Later... once you bandage me up and we eat.. could we go out..? Just one more time?"

Murdoc trailed the pathway to the door, keeping close behind 2-D. He looked over his shoulder to the view the singer was gazing at. It really was beautiful; Plastic Beach. Despite the mass mountain of garbage that he'd spray painted pink, the island had the best view of the beautiful, ice cold blue ocean. Considering the request, Murdoc sighed heavily through his nose. Blood pooled at their feet from the gash in their dinner's neck. He tossed the fishing poles to the side near the entrance of their building and gave a small shrug. "Maybe. Ask me later, I don't know yet." He shoved 2-D inside, not hard enough to make him fall, but hard enough to remind the blunette that he was technically still a prisoner and had to listen to whatever Murdoc's instructions were. He couldn't risk allowing the singer to get too comfortable for his own good.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
